I published this last month, but now I’ve learned how to use the substack podcast function, so I’m putting it out again - in case the way I did it previously was too confusing.
Thank you for your patience!
The word theurgy is constituted from two separate Greek words: theon (divine) and ergon (action).
The martial art and philosophy of Aikido was aided substantially in its development through the founder’s participation in divine action, through spiritual practices, and subsequently, has become a divine activity itself.
In my humble opinion, this qualifies Aikido as a theurgical practice.
Why this qualification matters to me is a question probably best left to a psychoanalyst, but I like to think of this admittedly syncretic exploration as ‘introducing gods to each other’. As O Sensei said, “The art of peace that I practice has room for each of the world’s eight million gods, and I cooperate with them all.”
Whoever said, “Never meet your heroes,” had the wrong heroes, because I just had the opportunity to speak to one of mine, and I’m so glad that I did. Check out my conversation with Dr Greg Shaw where we discuss theurgy and its possible significance to Aikido practitioners, as well as Aikido and its possible significance to theurgists.
I’ve been reading (and rereading) Dr. Shaw’s books for the better part of 5 years now, and I make it a priority to listen to every podcast interview he does. To repeat what I said in the audio intro to our discussion—he’s definitely one of the coolest “Neoplatonic” scholars out there.
“Neoplatonism” started out as a pejorative term to describe late antique philosophers who viewed the world through a more mystical lens than was deemed acceptable by post “Enlightenment” academics.
Thanks to the work of Dr. Shaw—and others that I hope to someday also get a chance to speak to—Neoplatonism has found greater acceptance among modern scholars and has a wide body of ever-growing literature available to read up on if so inclined.
As I mention in my talk with Dr. Shaw, I started with Plotinus and got hooked right away. I know that late antique mystical philosophy is not for everyone, but if you’re interested in learning more about Neoplatonism in general and theurgy specifically, I highly recommend checking out Dr. Shaw’s work here: Kosmos Institute. He’s been a professor of religious studies for over 35 years, and his scholarship is top-notch.
Speaking of scholarship (albeit quite a few notches down from the top), I’m working on a book of my own about this very topic: viewing Aikido through a Theurgical lens. I stumbled a bit in relaying to Dr. Shaw some of the qualifications I believe that it has, so please allow me now to elaborate a little bit with a short essay/excerpt talking about the ritual of Chinkon Kishin, which O Sensei learned through his affiliation with the Oomoto religion, adopted, adapted, and made part of his Aikido practice.
Chinkon Kishin was a central practice within the Oomoto-kyo religion. This practice, deeply influential on O Sensei (Morihei Ueshiba, the founder of Aikido), exemplifies the quest for spiritual integration through intentional ritual action and, in my opinion, can be understood as a form of theurgy, a method for cleansing the soul, invoking, and attaining union with the divine.
Honda Chikaatsu (1822-1889) was a scholar who sought to revive ancient indigenous spiritual traditions in Japan. He developed Chinkon Kishin through combining the separate practices of chinkon (pacifying the spirit) and kishin (returning to the divine).
A transformative moment in Honda’s life occurred at age twenty-one when he witnessed a young girl reciting poetry in an erudite manner, supposedly possessed by a fox spirit. This experience spurred him to spend the next ten years wandering around the Shizuoka region, learning spiritualist techniques from various teachers and performing ascetic exercises in caves. This period of experimentation and self-discovery was crucial in developing his unique approach to spirituality. It was during this time that he moved beyond traditional Shinto practices and delved into the realm of spirit communication and possession.
Honda studied and systematized fragmentary classical references to create the blend of chinkon and kishin. In tandem, these techniques constituted a method to unite humans with the spirit world in order to acquire divine knowledge. He also introduced the concept of the Saniwa, a spirit channeler who could induce possession and communicate with the spirits.
While Honda reportedly had several hundred disciples, few were initiated deeply enough into his secret doctrines to become teachers themselves. Nagasawa Katsutate was regarded as one of Honda’s best students. He carried on the tradition of Honda’s reigaku (spirit studies) at Shizuoka’s Miho and Yamanashi Shrines, where he was chief priest. In 1892 he received approval from prefectural authorities to establish Inari Kòsha, a religious organization created with the purpose of teaching chinkon kishin, at Yamanashi Shrine, dedicated to Ame no Uzume, the deity associated with spirit possession.
It was here that Onisaburò Deguchi (charismatic leader of the Oomoto-kyo religion) came to visit and study in 1898. He learned this practice from Nagasawa, became a saniwa himself, and integrated chinkon kishin into his burgeoning new religion.
Deguchi taught a handful of high-ranking Oomoto followers to serve as saniwa. He himself rarely presided at public gatherings but would make an appearance and intervene if the possessing spirits were excessively violent or unruly. It’s primarily owing to Oomoto’s popularization of Honda’s techniques that chinkon kishin spread widely. Under Deguchi, the pool of potential participants was enlarged to include the general public.
Chinkon Kishin, as practiced within Oomoto, involved specific ritualistic elements designed to facilitate union with the divine. The use of a special stone as a focal point, the adoption of specific postures and hand positions (mudras), and the recitation of prayers accompanied by music were all ritual actions intended to cleanse the practitioner's spirit and invoke the presence of spirits and deities. The aim was to transcend the mundane and achieve (to use another Greek term) a form of henosis.
Here’s a lengthy quote from Nancy Stalker’s book—Prophet Motive: Deguchi Onisaburo, Oomoto, and the Rise of New Religions in Imperial Japan—describing a typical Chinkon Kishin ritual:
“The practice itself had three main elements: a chinkon stone, a special posture and hand position (mudra), and music and recitation provided by the saniwa. The chinkon stone was a small, heavy rock, ideally received from the spirit world in a miraculous manner. Since that was a rare and unpredictable occurrence, an appropriate stone could also be sought out on the grounds of shrines, holy mountains, riverbeds, and seashores. Once a fitting specimen was located, it was washed carefully in water, purified with salt, placed in a brocade bag, and enshrined on a small altar. The receiver, or kannushi, took the proper posture, kneeling in seiza position and crossing his legs so that the big toe of the right foot rested on the big toe of the left foot. He or she made the chinkon mudra (also called the ama no nuhoko) by holding the hands at chest level, fingers interlaced and pointing toward the palm, index fingers pointed upwards. The thumb of the left hand was placed on top of the thumb of the right hand. The kannushi sat with eyes closed for 20–30 minutes, concentrating so that thoughts and spirit gathered into the stone. The saniwa had to pay close attention to the state of the kannushi’s spirit in chinkon meditation. If the receiver reached an appropriate level of trance, he or she was ready for the descent or manifestation of the spirit. To achieve this, the saniwa clapped his hands and began to play a stone flute or ocarina (iwabue) to create a mysterious occultic atmosphere. He recited the Amatsu Norito prayer and the Ama no Kazuuta, or Heavenly Number Song. After the possessing spirit manifested itself, the saniwa had to determine the variety of spirit—that is, whether it was good or evil and its rank and lineage—through a question and answer dialogue. As there were 181 ranks each of good and evil spirits in Honda’s classification, the saniwa needed to be well schooled in classics naming and describing Shinto deities in order to identify the spirit appropriately”
Many Aikido practitioners already know the story of how O Sensei first met Deguchi, so I will try to make it short and sweet, paraphrased from A Life in Aikido (the biography of founder Morihei Ueshiba) written by his son, Kisshomaru Ueshiba.
O Sensei, fraught with anxiety over his critically ill father, faced a daunting ten-day journey by train from Hokkaido back to Kishu to visit him. Thoughts of his father’s suffering weighed heavily on him. On the train ride, a chance conversation with a fellow passenger sparked a glimmer of hope. The passenger spoke of Oomoto, a “miraculous new religion in Ayabe,” capable of extraordinary things. This mention resonated with O Sensei, who was hoping for a miracle, and upon reaching Kyoto, he deviated from his path to Kishu and instead headed to Ayabe.
Arriving in late December 1919, he was immediately struck by the town’s vibrant atmosphere. The sight of people, young and old, wearing distinctive attire emblazoned with the Omoto crest, was unlike anything he had anticipated. He had expected a small, perhaps traditional, religious gathering, but what he found was a bustling center of energy. Led as if by an unseen force, he reached the Omoto headquarters, where a beautiful shrine stood amidst spacious gardens covered in snow. The grounds were filled with imposing buildings, creating an aura of purity and sacredness.
O Sensei requested prayers for his ailing father at the headquarters and was directed to the Konryu-den prayer building. There, he began a requiem prayer, drawing upon his knowledge of Tantric Buddhist rituals. As he prayed, he sensed a powerful presence entering the building. It was Onisaburo Deguchi.
Deguchi approached and asked, “Did you see anything?”
O Sensei replied that he saw his father, appearing thin and frail, almost transparent.
Deguchi responded calmly, “There is nothing to worry about with your father.”
These words, initially perplexing, began to resonate with O Sensei over the following days. He realized Deguchi was alluding to the natural course of life and the importance of accepting its end with serenity.
Deeply moved by Deguchi’s words and the atmosphere at Oomoto, O Sensei stayed in Ayabe for three days. He immersed himself in the teachings of Oomoto and practiced Chinkon Kishin. It was as if his urgent need to return to his father’s side had momentarily faded.
Deguchi’s statement, “There is nothing to worry about with your father,” was the catalyst for O Sensei’s immediate connection to him and his interest in Oomoto. Had Deguchi offered a simple prayer or words of consolation, their encounter might have been fleeting. Instead, his profound insight and the spiritual energy of Oomoto drew O Sensei in, marking a turning point in his life.
As many Aikidoka also know, O Sensei moved his family to Ayabe after his father’s death and became a faithful adherent of Oomoto, serving as the right-hand man/bodyguard of Deguchi for many (often tumultuous) years. His involvement in Oomoto profoundly shaped his spiritual understanding and the development of Aikido. His adoption of Chinkon Kishin into his training more than adequately reflects this influence.
O Sensei’s augmented version of Chinkin Kishin (which many Aikidoka still perform to this day as pre-class warmups), consisting of Shin Kokyu (breathing rituals), Torifune (rowing exercises), and Furutuma (spirit-shaking), is intended to manipulate and channel cosmic energy. These exercises were developed not just as part of a physical, calisthenic routine, but as intentional ritual actions aimed at achieving ecstatic union with the divine.
In my upcoming book(let) - I hope to show in further detail how Chinkon Kishin, as well as other theurgical practices that O Sensei was engaging in throughout his life, were influential in the development of Aikido, and how Aikido itself can be seen as a form of a theurgy.
For now, I hope I’ve piqued your interest at least slightly.
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